


Save Me

by IAmNotAsleep (AFlameThatFlickersOutTooSoon)



Category: Clare Siobhan Sims
Genre: Angst, Canon Gay Character, Consent is Sexy!, Dissociation, Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, but sex is one of the main themes, clare if you ever see this i’m sorry, dubcon, main paring doesn’t necessarily mean healthy pairing, mostly because braylen is dissociating and slightly drunk, no beta we die like men, no graphic smut, oof this one hurt, they have fade to black sex, unfortunately this story is not sexy, why did i even write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFlameThatFlickersOutTooSoon/pseuds/IAmNotAsleep
Summary: Braylen reflects on morality and his relationship with Sammy B.(Sober consent is important kids!)(based on a scene from Clare Siobhan’s Stranger Stories ep3)
Relationships: Samuel Blaze Villareal/Braylen Franklin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Save Me

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: references to alcohol and alcohol addiction, homophobia, vaguely rapey undertones
> 
> This is based on a canonical scene from Stranger Stories, but that scene was about five seconds and mostly implied, whereas this goes into more detail. Please read the tags to know what you’re getting into! (I’m sorry if I’m being annoying but I’ve never published anything like this before and I’m pretty sure Clare has a lot of young viewers so I’m paranoid.)

“God Sammy, you’re a mess.” 

There was a faint buzz of alcohol in his veins, and the words left Braylen’s mouth before he was fully aware of it. Sammy skidded to a halt, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. He turned to stare at Braylen, tears beginning to collect in those big pink eyes. 

He’d really nailed the kicked puppy look. It made Braylen feel even worse than he already did.

“Hey. You’re my mess, so let’s get you home.” Sammy seemed satisfied with that answer. He wiped his eyes and continued walking. Braylen darted forward to wrap an arm around his shoulders and guide him away from the flickering streetlight he had nearly walked into.

“Awwww, thanks Bray. I didn’t see that,” he giggled. If there was anything to be said about Sammy, it’s that his alcohol tolerance was shit, especially for someone who drank as much as he did.

In a horrible, selfish way, Braylen liked drunk Sammy. He liked how Sammy could be with him without that starving, broken look that had decorated his delicate features since they were teenagers. How he didn’t seem to notice or care if Braylen flinched away from a hug or spent the whole night flirting with some girl at the bar. He liked how a casual touch could light up his eyes the way it did when they were kids instead of igniting a look of confusion and betrayal and a twisted form of hope, how they could spend some time pretending Braylen wasn’t a coward.

Usually Braylen’s interaction with drunk Sammy were hazed with his own fair share of inebriation. Tonight he was barely tipsy. It brought everything into sharper focus than ever before.

Braylen wasn’t stupid. He knew how much he hurt Sammy, but he couldn’t bring himself to step away. He knew he was straight, he knew he liked girls, but somehow the thought of Sammy with someone else was just as gut wrenching as the alternative. So he kept Sammy by his side no matter how much the moral part of his brain begged him to let Sammy go.

It was kind of ridiculous how long it took them to get back to Sammy’s place. It was literally across the street, but the escapade of the streetlights took far longer than it should have. Nearly ten minutes had passed before Braylen was digging Sammy’s keys out of his pocket and kicking the front door open.

“Hey,” Sammy murmured, “you should be nicer to the door.”

Braylen sighed. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

Sammy nodded and made a vague noise of agreement. He looked up at Braylen, and slumped a little further into his arms. His eyes, rose red and half lidded from drunkenness or exhaustion, were doing nothing to ease the pounding of Braylen’s heart or the sudden acute awareness that Braylen still had his arm over Sammy’s shoulders, every inch of Sammy’s skin burning through the strategically ripped holes in his shirt. It was almost trancelike, the way he moved a hand to brush a clump of inky hair from Sammy’s face. The way he let his hand linger far longer than necessary and suddenly he could feel Sammy’s scorching breath against his cheeks and he was leaning down to meet his mouth.

They’d kissed before. Middle school experiments, stupid party games, nights they stole a bottle of wine from Abel’s collection he thought no one knew about and drank until the early hours of the morning, and Sammy’s lips were stained like the girls at school who wore deep red lipstick and Braylen had left all his shame behind hours before.

Somehow, kissing Sammy was never like he expected. This time it was heated and sloppy and super, super drunk and Braylen could taste something cheap but strong on Sammy’s tongue and he could feel the liquid guilt coursing like fire through his veins, replacing the buzzing numb brought by alcohol and the thrumming passion brought by lust. 

_Stop._

Braylen knotted his hand tight in Sammy’s hair.  
You can’t string him along like this.  
He ran a sharp canine against Sammy’s bottom lip.

_He’s drunk._

Sammy broke away to gasp for air.

_You’ll both regret this._

He took the opportunity to tug Sammy’s head back, giving him easy access to bite at his throat.

_You’re straight._

And he _was_. He’d liked girls before, even dated a few, he’d never been into another guy before, not-

not like Sammy.

Somehow they had made it up the stairs and Braylen was untethered from his body, moving and kissing and so, so far away. He didn’t let himself engage in flights of fancy often, but now he was falling into it, like the grasping void of space, filling a place that was empty but waiting.  
Sammy’s neck was pale and thin, marked only by the blooming bruises Braylen was leaving with his teeth. 

Sammy liked being bitten. He was always drawn to the guys who would stomp him down, rip his throat out with their teeth, and leave him to the wolves. 

Must be why he liked Braylen.

He pulled back. Sammy blinked at him hazily. 

“You okay?”

Always looking out for him. God, he didn’t deserve this.

“What’s it to you?” 

_Shit._ That came out harsher than he wanted it to.

“I mean, I thought... you’re my friend.”

“Yeah, not my fucking keeper. Jesus.”

“M’sorry.”

Braylen caught his chin when he tried to look down. “Hey, no, you know I didn’t mean that.”

“I...” Sammy’s voice cracked and shook. Braylen could see he was holding back tears.

“Shit, no, Sammy. I hate when you get upset like this.” 

Braylen hurriedly cradled his arms around Sammy’s neck and hugged him while Sammy sniffed into his chest. He pushed them back, until Sammy’s knees hit his bed.

“You think I can make it up to you?” Braylen whispered, grinning and moving his hands to rest at Sammy’s hips. Sammy wasn’t exactly known for modesty, so Braylen knew his body, but- well. There was a difference between looking and touching, sliding his fingers along soft curves.

Sammy shivered. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Good.” Braylen didn’t waste and time in shoving Sammy down and crawling over him to straddle his hips.

From this angle he looked a bit like that girl at the bar. Braylen couldn’t remember her name, but she’d had thick dark hair and milky white skin, plump, pouty lips and a dress that clung to her form. Sammy was small and delicate, feminine, maybe that was why he made Braylen’s heart feel like it was going to bust out of his ribs, maybe that was why he spent far longer thinking about Sammy in the shower than he ever did feeling guilty about it.

Maybe if Sammy were a girl. That would’ve been easier. He can almost picture it. His family couldn’t make snide remarks about Sammy’s ‘preferences’, and no one would be surprised or disgusted if they dated because they would be expecting it, and maybe kissing could mean something. Maybe they could’ve been each other’s first love, maybe they could’ve had a lot of firsts together. Maybe when Braylen pushed Sammy back onto the bed it could’ve been more than a bad decision. Maybe Braylen wouldn’t feel so guilty staring at Sammy, flush drunk and giving him sleepy kisses, because if Sammy were a girl maybe Braylen would have asked him out a long time ago.

Maybe they could’ve woken up together. Maybe they could’ve done all that if Braylen wasn’t a coward. But he was, so he got dressed and left the house while Sammy was passed out, he called the girl at the bar, and tried to put it all out of his mind. He could only hope Sammy would do the same, or maybe he was so drunk he didn’t remember, or maybe he’d brush it off as a wet dream.

Deep down, he knew he wouldn’t. He knew Sammy better than he knew himself. He knew he’d think about this for months, just like the first time they kissed. Just like every time he got a little too far out of the web and Braylen dragged him back in.

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Conan Gray’s Kid Krow album on loop while finishing this up, honestly the vibes are just *chef’s kiss* and it fits Sammy so well.
> 
> Another thing I should probably say, I don’t think Braylen likes Sammy because Sammy looks like a girl, nor do I actually think Sammy looks like a girl. I just think Braylen’s so deep in the closet he’s practically in Narnia and he will use any rational to try and convince himself he’s straight.


End file.
